The Vastness

by Hausladen, Blake;

  “Thirteen,” the leadsman on the starboard side reported.

  The leadsman on the port side added, “Seventeen, ma’am. There is a drop off right below us.”

  I spotted the difference then in the waves along the long shore.

  We came in line with the trailing ship. My next order I said low, but my ready crew did not miss it. “Tack to starboard.”

  And then to mask our action it I screamed, “Fire at their captain, boys. A hundred gold to the person who hits him.”

  Our good ship swung back around toward the island, our tack to the northeast, theirs still to the northwest.

  “Thirteen, ma’am, both sides.”

  “That flight struck home, ma’am,” Rindsfar reported. “Their captain is taking cover.”

  “Twelve and half!”

  I took a long look at the corsair as her distracted crew struggled to make the turn while our archers picked of one man after another. There was only a narrow slip of water between the ship and beach. The dark and welcome waters of the gulf waited beyond. The corsair’s turn was sloppy and she lost her speed. We were only three lengths behind her and in range of their weaker bows. They had time enough still to turn and cut us off. We could not tack again. Already the rest of the Yud were closing, and the second ship was almost in range as well.

  “Brace for impact,” I called.

  Our long keel of Enhedu oak struck the sand and we lurched almost to a halt. My ready crew kept its feet, and a growling cheer rose from every man and woman aboard. On we ground across the sandy bottom while the lead Yud ship began at last to make the turn back toward us. The rest closed and arrows arched in. Closer and closer they came.

  “Come on, good girl,” Tayler screamed, kissed the mast, and then slapped it as hard as she could. The rest followed her lead, extolled our ship to keep moving.

  Slower and slower our hard keel pressed through the sand and rock, until with a hiss, the island let go of us.

  “All hands, take cover,” I shouted before they could cheer, “arrows coming.”

  They hooted and whooped, but none mistook my order. My crew disappeared from view, and I tucked myself behind the high aft rail as arrows began to thunk down onto our deck from the south and west.

  I heard the Yud yelling, and judged our distance by the sound of them as no more than a few boat lengths. Their arrows came in shallower as the moments rolled on, and I was beginning to hear the report of their bows grow fearful of the toss of line and hook.

  I hazarded a glace and was rewarded by the sight of a corsair to our south run aground. They’d followed us and struck the same bottom with their thin keel. The hull split and its mast was born forward. The ship came apart and the rest of the Yud ships dove away from the shallows. To our left, the lead Yud ship had righted itself and was aimed back at us, but it was too late. They had no shoreline to press us against.

  I ordered the turn and we edged away while their arrows continued to fall, but there was nothing for them to hit that would slow our good girl. We got into the open air beyond the island and slid out of range.

  My officers joined me as I moved back to the traverse board. Three arrows were buried in the frame, but none had struck its precious surface.

  “We’ll need to fashion a cover for her, ma’am,” Rindsfar said.

  Tayler did not hear this, her expression dark as she clutched a longbow. “We’ll find no aid upon this coast.”

  Rindsfar did not understand her. I said, “Our chief believes the Yud are winning.”

  Her frown spread to the rest, save our colonel. He was brimming.

  “How can you smile like that,” Tayler asked him. “The world teeters on the brink. We are all that is left to tip it back into place, and we are sailing the wrong way.”

  “Ah,” Graves said. “I see your flaw. You’ve discounted Dia. You must know that we are only a contingency. The most likely thing we’ll find when we reach the Priest’s Home is that she’s killed Aden and been crowned the Queen of the Bunda-Hith, if not all the fourteen kingdoms.”

  This brought our struggling sail-chief to a sudden halt. “What?”

  “I’m surprised to have to tell it to you. Pitted against Aden, Bessradi, heck, even Geart and Sikhek, my money would be on Dia. Her magic is stronger than the bunch of them combined—stronger than our admiral here. Wouldn’t you agree, ma’am?”

  His eyes were twinkling, and my response came easy despite the slander. “Most certainly.”

  “My,” Tayler said and shook her head. “I feel daft for not having understood it. She did win the Battle of Urnedi, didn’t she?”

  “She did,” I said. “Fear not. See that the lookout is relieved, and get everyone to work plucking these arrows from our deck and searching the horizon. We don’t want any more surprises before we are safely out in the Gulf.”

  They went and Colonel Graves kept a straight face long after the rest departed.

  “You’re feeling better,” I said.

  “The briskness of an engagement does wonders. It was either my arrow or Tayler’s that struck their captain. A few meals and another good night sleep, and I dare say we could have taken all seven of those ships.”

  I had not expected his praise of her marksmanship, but it was good to know she could handle a bow as well.

  “You think Dia has a chance of escaping?”

  “Escape? Not one chance in a thousand. Your boatswain gets to worrying. Setting them worry aside was the least I could do after all you put up with from me.”

  “Anything else?”

  “One last thing, yes. What should we do with Sikhek?”

  “What? That wretch is still alive? I’d not given him a single thought since we escaped the Eastern Reaches. How is it possible?”

  “I do not know, ma’am. He has not eaten or drank so much as a sip of water, but he still he lingers. I have him in the hammock below mine.”

  “You have been sleeping in the same room with that corpse?”

  “He doesn’t smell that bad. I assumed you knew. My apologies, ma’am. Should I put him over the side?”

  “I would have if you’d asked me yesterday. He had some hand in our misfortune, but no bad winds or foul waves have plagued us since Geart went overboard. I would see Sikhek recover, if possible. I want to hear an explanation from him and would know his intentions. It is the Yud we contend with now, and if they stand in his way as well, we may yet get some use out of him. Find somewhere else to hang his hammock though. No reason for you to suffer his presence.”

  He liked this most of all, and I dismissed him with a salute.

  The moment put a hard point to the end of the day, and it shook free the last of the ice that clung to my thoughts. We’d escaped, and my crew was well.

  I set my mind back to the angle of sails and ship and a careful listening for a change of the whistling wind. It felt good, and as the occasional member of the crew would look back at me and tip their cap my way, I almost laughed.

  Someone started whistling, and I was happy for it as I focused upon the maintenance of pegs and strings with each change in speed and direction. It was a tune I’d heard upon the river, but not since, and it was with greatest shock that I noticed my cheeks and lips were quivering with fatigue.

  The whistler was me.

  How was it that of everyone aboard, I was the last to be well?

  Dia would have admonished me, though Mercanfur would have applauded. Captains and admirals were meant to suffer with ship and crew, in his estimation, and as I looked out at my fit ship, I knew he was right.

  No ships were behind us come the dawn, and it was perhaps a foretelling of things to come when we happened upon a lone Yud ship the next morning as it foundered in the troths of the gulf’s rolling waves. The northerly had pushed them out and they’d broken their rudder trying to carve their way back.

  We took the ship without a fight, its cargo of fish, and its crew of nine was taken below to answer my many questions.

  33 />
  General Evand Yentif

  The 4th of Winter, 1196

  No one answered when I knocked and I gave the door a push. It opened with a soundless swoop of well-oiled hinges and monstrous oak.

  “It’s Evand,” I said across the black space.

  “I know who you are,” Emi said from somewhere on the far side.

  “Of course you do.”

  No reply.

  “Dame Franni and some of the girls are below, if you would prefer their company.”

  “I’d prefer if you all left me alone. Can you do that?”

  “Rahan sent me.”

  “Doing what he asks is new to you.”

  “He did win the city despite me.”

  She stepped out of the shadows and opened her eyes. I worried in equal measures that she’d take my soul apart or set me on fire. Standing still was the only thing I could do besides run for my life.

  “I don’t want to be entertained. I want to be left alone.”

  “Not my decision. He said you find me interesting.”

  She studied me, and asked, ““Why does Liv love you so much?”

  “I’ve not the faculties now to answer such a question. Can we sit down?”

  “I might kill you by accident.”

  “I know. I’d prefer to be sitting, if it is all the same to you.”

  “Okay.”

  I lit a few candles.

  “That’s enough,” she said.

  I sat on the nearest chair. She’d found a spot upon a large sedan. The room was cluttered with the city’s gifts to her.

  “Not a very happy place, is it?” I said.

  “Everyone else thinks it’s marvelous.”

  “They don’t have to sit in here wrapped in adoration, though, do they?” She did not like this topic either. I added, “Avin was able to gather up the children the priest had not found. They are well. Rahan found them a safe place apart from everyone.”

  “I know. When did you get the yellow ribbon?”

  I looked down at the yellow strip pinned to the chest of my coat. “A scratch during the attack on the palace.”

  “It was cold that night.”

  “Was it? I don’t recall.”

  “The men are doing okay without me?”

  “Without the daily dose of healing magic, you mean?” I asked, and after she nodded, and I said, “Avin’s Preservatory was able to get on its feet. He has four hundred healers now—still nothing compared to a single singer standing next to you, but it’s enough to keep them mended.”

  Emi played with a loose thread on her dirty woolen tunica. I’d been told she had not bathed since Avin had brought her back to the tower.

  “It must itch.”

  “You really are very strange, Evand.”

  “Am I?”

  She laughed, but it was not a happy sound. “Why aren’t you angry at Rahan? I do not understand you at all.”

  “Why should I be? He is working to save us. I was a fool standing in his way. I’m happy to be part of whatever comes next. He thought I might be able to talk to you, so this is me talking.”

  “When you are lying, your soul looks like yarn blowing in the wind.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “Yes, you are. You want to be with the men that surround the palace. You want to be the one who charges the Deyalu and kills the man who betrayed the Hemari.”

  “To do that, I would have to be the one in charge. There can be only one Exaltier.”

  She studied me again. My skin warmed and I stiffened.

  “Sorry,” she said and the heat subsided. “Are you alright?”

  “No. I am terrified.”

  She shut her eyes again and was quiet for so long I gave thought to sprinting for the door.

  “Oh, Evand. You are a father now. A girl, I think, the way Rahan is reacting. He is happier with you now. Oh, I am sorry. Rahan asks too much of you. You should be with your family.”

  “You really should shut up. I’d rather burn than have someone crawl again and again through my soul. Or at least be asked permission.”

  She’d not heard me say it as she studied things far away, her eyes shut tight once again.

  Rage bubbled up into my throat while she scratched at the sores made by her ugly tunica.

  I flinched.

  I was arguing about permission with a girl who’d spent her childhood a slave while I looked down upon her from my father’s palace. I imagined a bright spring morning upon the Deyalu filled with the smell of bread, wine, and the promise of a festival. I imagined being confined to a shelf in a Warrens lodge house while a hundred princes danced and rejoiced.

  I searched the roomful of unasked gifts and felt smaller and smaller until I was left with nothing to do but close my eyes and wait.

  “Hard, isn’t it? Being a slave,” she said.

  A thousand Hemari could not have held me as still as this small girl did.

  I wanted to ask how she had survived it. I wanted to know if she was okay. I did not understand why she had not turned her power outward and made everyone burn.

  “My daughter is okay?” I asked like a starved beggar hoping for a tin coin instead of a kick in the face.

  “Liv and the girl are fine. Everyone is very happy. Liv is trying hard not to want you there, but she is desperate to show you your daughter.”

  “I would like that very much.”

  “You cannot go to her until you ask me Rahan’s questions, can you?”

  “He also wants you cared for.”

  “He is too clever,” she said, still scratching. “He will make enemies of us all, bending us around to him so roughly. He treats everyone this way.”

  “Could I draw a bath for you, Emi? You are torturing yourself.”

  She scratched again and growled before setting her steely eyes upon me. “Ask the questions he sent you to ask, and then send up a girl to run a bath in the next room. Tell her to stay away. I’ll find the bath, same as I find the food they leave in the hallway. ”

  “How many men defend the Deyalu and the palace?”

  “There are 4,742 people inside the palace.”

  “Does Yarik have armies marshalling to the east?”

  “Yes. A half million strong now. They are well organized and are building ships.”

  “Is Yarik inside the palace?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been able to pick him out. There is not one person in charge on the other side of the river like there is here. Yarik could be any of several men at the palace or with the army.”

  “The rest would be his cousins—Bendent’s sons. I am surprised they haven’t killed each other. Do you think the palace will surrender?”

  “No. They hate Rahan most of all,” she said. She could not hold still, as though someone was standing behind her, poking her in the ribs with a stick.

  “Are you okay, Emi?”

  “Is that Rahan’s question or yours?”

  “Mine.”

  “I don’t want to do this anymore. Can you tell him? I don’t want to count anymore. Not like this.”

  “Yes. I will tell him. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, Evand. Go to your brother and tell him that I am well and seen to, so that he might release you to see your family. Do you have a name for her?”

  “We would name her Emilia, if that is okay with you?”

  “Oh, Evand. A hundred thousand baby girls will have the same name as her. Pick something else. Why not your mother’s name?”

  I may have scowled.

  “Evand, I am sorry. Why are you so angry with me?”

  “My father men took me from her when I was five and murdered her and the rest of his wives after he was assassinated. I’ve not said her name out loud since ... I cannot remember the last time.”

  “What was your mother’s name, Evand?”

  “Aris.”

  She jumped off the sedan, crossed to me, and offered me a bit of cloth. I didn’t realize my te
ars until they dripped free. I took the offered cloth and Emi stepped back.

  “Aris would be a beautiful name, Evand. You should hear it more often. Your soul opened like a flower while you were thinking about her. Please, go to them. They want you very badly.”

  “Thank you, Emi,” I said and stood to leave.

  She wanted to ask something, but could not find the words. I’d never seen someone so alone. She abandoned her question and said, “Thank you, Evand. Hurry to your little girl. She needs you.”

  I went, but with each happy step, I found more worry for Emi. There must be someone somewhere that could comfort her, a friend or relative perhaps.

  I stopped short of the door onto the lawns and went back to find Dame Franni.

  34

  King Barok Vesteal

  The 5th of Winter, 1196

  “We are ready to depart,” Errati said and I failed a half-hearted attempt at an affirming nod.

  I could not focus on the day’s journey. It was important, but small compared to our other struggles. I’d gone a hundred days without news from Rahan, Evand, or Soma. The Bergion had frozen over earlier then we’d hoped so Bessradi might as well be on the moon, and my confidence that Soma would return was waning. I’d sent Captain Pikailia with three tall ships east to support our missing admiral, but the only news to come back was a Khrimish captain’s account of a bloody encounter with Yud corsair and a letter from Hooak of Thanin telling of Yudyith’s many attacks along the coast. He expressed worry that Dahar and Havish could hold out until the spring. This news, as grim as it was, was the closest we’d come to word of Soma’s vital mission.

  Enhedu at least, kept nothing from me. My envoys delivered report after report of all our many important works. Water was flowing down the main trunk of the aqueduct, Gern’s army would be ready come the spring to take the war south, and Thanin was emptying its treasury to buy our armor and longbows. My bank was whole and my plans for how to stab at Yarik’s heart with its coins had advanced. Lilly was learning words and Fana and Lady Jayme were due to return from the Oreol Coast with the Sermod that had gone into hiding there. But Enhedu’s successes did not advance our primary cause. I was stymied, stuck, as though the story of me could not be told without Dia, Leger, Geart, or Soma to ground it. They had gone, and I was frozen in place despite the bright sun and industrious motion around me.